


Agents Adrift

by Deuterosis



Category: World Trigger (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Dysphoria, Enlistment, Gen, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, International Fanworks Day 2021, Mild Transphobia, Nonbinary Character, Slice of Life, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, parental transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deuterosis/pseuds/Deuterosis
Summary: All kinds of people can be found in Border, and here is how some of them come to find their feet.  (T, as usual, only for later swearing.)
Kudos: 4





	1. Akira Sonae

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not so good at detailed battles, so there won't really be any. With luck, I will have captured the rhythm of “downtime” in World Trigger. Even if I've narrowed it down mostly to particular parts of the characters' story.
> 
> Ashihara said that Trion bodies can be modified (as we've seen), but most don't do it extensively because a "feeling of wrongness" can ensue; although you can get accustomed, that feeling will return when you return to your real body. This sounded a bit to me like dysphoria/incongruence, and so an idea was born....
> 
> I should have added this paragraph when I posted this, but nevertheless, I'd like to point out I welcome any thoughts that anyone wants to share on any of my works, even if it's not all positive. This is my first time finishing an OC-heavy fic (well, third, but the first that doesn't also give much focus on canon characters as well). If you think I did poorly or well or so-so, and want to voice that, I'll absolutely appreciate it, especially if you explain why.

"Dad, Mom... I think, on the inside, I am a girl!"

"Sure, sounds fine."

"Just be back before nine."

They didn't even look away from their virtual cars.

"I.... Were you even listening to what I said?!"

"Yeah, of course. You wanted to, uh... go somewhere, right?"

"No, I said...!" The repetition had to rise again like a bubble in her throat. "I feel that I'm really a girl. I was supposed to be a girl."

"Oh. Well, that's fine."

"Just be back before nine." Mom briefly winked.

Sonae Akira couldn't believe a word of this. This very situation might not be uncommon in big, progressive cities in the United States, but Japan wasn't America.

They didn't have questions? They wouldn't demand to know why? They're not invested enough to try to talk her down from this, like it would be that simple? Days of agonizing and planning what to say, how to argue, and they didn't give half a shit.

"What's the matter, Akira? It sounds like this is important to you. Your mother and I don't mind."

_Right, but that's for all the wrong reasons!_

* * *

Akira's parents had never been much of parents. They earned money, paid the bills, and kept their child fed, and they were calm and serene progenitors, but the positives all stopped there. It began to dawn on her when she first began struggling in school and bringing home somewhat disappointing report cards, yet the most either ever had to say was "Well, work harder next time, I guess."

"Aren't you angry?"

"What for? It's your life. If you want to get into a good college, you'll do well. If you don't, you won't."

"C'mon, Akira, lighten up and join us. You're a teenager, right? Play some video games."

It was easy to imagine other children envying this remarkable, almost unreal freedom, but, as stated, it was for the wrong reasons. The Sonaes only had a child because of parental pressures on both sides. They valued their own freedoms, including the freedom to not have their parents breathing down their necks. Akira was the result, and once she'd learned enough and grown big enough to be self-sufficient, they considered the bulk of their job done. The lack of full investment in it, of concern, proved this before they steadily withdrew thinking they were being subtle.

That hands-off style, like they were fellow teens just bunking with their child, and this general feeling of unease, which had only increased with puberty, made her feel like a lone raftswoman in the ocean. The first Large-Scale Invasion, around that same time, had killed or taken all the people she thought she could have told about her feelings before she figured out the words to explain them.

After coming out to her parents and gaining almost no response (well; they did try to remember, which was nice), Akira began to go for long walks around Mikado City, when she had no other tasks. She wasn't doing anything, and that was the problem. There was no pull in her schoolwork towards any future field: no spark, no particular joy. And even if she chose something she wasn't bad at and could be content to exist in, it would still be years before that bore fruit. It would do nothing right now for this feeling, the intersection of an unheld balloon and a prisoner with concrete feet.

When she looked up, nearby sat the Border Enlistment Office. It wasn't even open yet, as empty as the quiet morning streets that brought her.

More and more of the people around her were joining Border now. Especially after the second Invasion, and if not that, then the press conference Border gave about it.

Despite the impact on her life by Neighbors, Akira found it shocking at first: how many around her age were just signing up to be Border agents. Against those big monsters, a bunch of kids seemed like the strangest possible army. She never thought she'd want to do it herself.

But now that fortress in the distance looked a little bit like a lighthouse; something concrete that she could do with herself right now. Help her city out. Maybe then she would feel less directionless and superfluous.


	2. Akira Sonae: Part 2

The test to get into Border consisted of a written and a physical portion. Unable to tell for sure what they must be looking for aside from a bare minimum of sense and health, Akira was almost surprised to approach at the end and find her number on the board.

Next there came a brief interview: This seemed to mostly be just cleaning up loose ends.

"You seem to have marked yourself down as 'female'...."

"Um, yes." Here was the first trial. The canned, rehearsed speech. "I feel that... my biology... isn't correct. Of course, I can't take action about it until I'm twenty."

The man nodded. "So, this is how you would prefer to be viewed. We can accommodate that."

Akira bowed in her seat. "Thank you, Sir."

Her heart was pounding still; the rest of the interview felt like a dream. Could it really be that simple? If the interviewer reacted with suspicion or doubt, he didn't show it at all.

Then, in a short time, came the actual Enlistment Day. She showed up before almost everyone else for the orientation they must undergo before the actual event in the afternoon, to get accustomed to the mere activation of the weapons known as Triggers.

The Engineer who handed her her Trigger was kind and didn't even have a reaction to the apparent mismatch between her enlistment info and how she looked. In fact, he pointed out a wonderful feature of Triggers she didn't even know about.

"You can change the way you're shaped with this? To what extent?"

"Everything, really. But don't think it sounds perfect for impersonations of people at your school." He said this as if he said it to roughly every recruit. "If you change too much, it can make things difficult."

Akira looked at the device with even newer eyes. It was so unassuming, just a disembodied handle, and yet so powerful she couldn't ever have guessed. 

"Now, give your Trigger a try. Before the enlistment ceremony, you should get a feel for maneuvering with a Trion body. Although it shouldn't be _that_ different."

"Yes, sir."

 _First, I'll try it without changing anything._ Get a feel for the baseline and see to what extent it's different.

How a Trigger works: First, the thing scans the activator's body. Using, drawn from that, a substance called Trion, it creates a temporary new body called the Combat Form, Trion body, whathaveyou. The Trigger user's consciousness is then temporarily transplanted into the combat form.

Only, this description is flawed. It turns out the Trigger doesn't scan the body so much as the brain's map thereof, because a miracle happened.

The Engineer looked up from the wires he'd quickly returned to. "What's wrong?"

"This is so weird. _Nothing's_ wrong."

It was hard to explain without investigating the details. The first thing she was really aware of was a sheer absense of that feeling that something wasn't quite right.

First she retreated around the corner for brief modesty -- actually, the underclothes of the body seemed glued on, so that wasn't too big a deal -- the bigger deal brought her right back, saying "All right, I don't know how else to put this, but-- The Trion body is different from my real one!"

"Really. Would you say it's reflecting how your brain feels your body should be shaped?"

"Yes!"

The Engineer seemed interested in this finding, but not really surprised. Did that mean there were others like Akira in Border...?

_Then maybe that's why it wasn't a big deal who I am. Because this proves I'm not just imagining things! I'm not?_

Looking about and then directed, Akira found a mirror and was promptly disappointed. The new body was fine _except_ for the face. On reflection, that made some sense; she'd heard of people who don't think their own face looks like them, and are shocked whenever they catch their reflection. If the Trion body picked up on that, you'd probably have all sorts of people "randomly" changing faces.

"All right, and how do I change things?"

It could be done externally by an Engineer, or, a bit more quickly, by use of a Virtual Training Room, where features of the Trigger could be changed on the fly. "Not too much, remember."

"Don't worry." It's mostly not dramatic changes; a few nit-picks here and there, things that make glaring what she can usually ignore if not confronted with them. Also, less fortunate, but seemingly necessary ones. She actually thought she looked better with short hair, just in general -- a bowl-cut, ending at the tops of the ears -- but the shorter the hair, the more likely she'd be read wrong. That, she left as is.

Besides, it feels strange already to be empowered to rearrange your own face in real time. Quite a fluster when Akira's right eye began to drift away from its place and had to be retrieved.

 _That's probably good, thaaaat's probably good. ...Yeah...._ This as the first time in a long time, if ever, she hadn't felt a friction looking at herself in a mirror.

_It's me. I actually look and feel like _me_._

Thus aloft on an unexpected nimbus cloud, Akira joined the flock of agents gathered in the convention hall -- to be addressed by such important people as HQ Director Shinoda Masafuni, and the members of Arashiyama Squad -- as not just lost, aimless teenagers, but trainees on the far precipice of Border agenthood. She mingled well with other equally nervous and happy C-Ranks, finally feeling sure of her direction.

_This is the first day of the rest of my life!_

* * *

In less than a week, Akira's confidence had nearly inverted.

First of all, the warning about "difficulties" was to be ignored at one's own peril. She felt fine, great even, until time came to take the Trigger off. Then, what had been mild turned into something glaring, nagging into debilitating. The difference between feeling a grasshopper and a centipede on your bare skin.

The only way to avoid this was to revert the most essential things to more or less the way they are. At least that way, she was dealing with the devil she knew.

But that, again, was what she was _used_ to. Far worse was when she took her Asteroid-laden assault rifle into the irregular-enlistment combat test and, in her third round, successfully riddled one opponent with holes. The kill wasn't instant; he'd managed to get away, but soon Bailed Out from Trion loss.

No further progress towards B-rank was made by Akira that day.

The next, she tried an Attacker's Trigger, Kogetsu, with plans to move on to Scorpion if she couldn't get the hang of it. Why she thought that'd be better, she wasn't sure; perhaps on the logic that being up close was more equal, less one-sided.

With Kogetsu she lost a few times, then started to get a feel for the sword. Then she actually bisected someone, shoulder to ribs.

Akira left the training booth immediately. Her opponent emerged from the booth next door, a slightly-shorter boy with a warrioresque queue. He reached out to her with a smile, looking the opposite of what she felt.

"Not bad."

"Thank you." She mechanically reached out and shook hands with him, but it was already clear she could not be a fighter.

She went straight home in a haze and tried to distract herself with her parents' video games. Nightmares crept in anyway and woke her at two-fifteen in the morning. She'd been just about to behead a condemned prisoner with a Kogetsu.

Almost broken at the thought of continuing, she dragged herself into HQ to hand in her Trigger at the Engineers' station and say she couldn't keep fighting.

"There's no shame in that. Border's combatants couldn't get far without the help of support members. If you wish, you can make equally-important contributions as an Operator or an Engineer, for example."

Engineers create and improve Border's Triggers, which did sound fun. But by definition, they were twice removed from the direct work of combat with Neighbors.

"I want to be close to the battlefield...." That was why she chose Border: to take an active role in things, to change the course of fate directly. "So I'll be an Operator, then."

The training of C-Rank Operators consists of administrative tasks for all of HQ, such as helping HQ Assistant Director Sawamura coordinate information during Defense Duty. The skill set is no joke. Operators must take in, and relay effectively, an immense amount of info: enemy positions on all three axes, prior combat information, bullet trajectories -- all this and more, and many Operators also offered strategy suggestions based on the same. Akira heard that the A-Rank #4 squad had its Operator as its Captain, _with the max of four field combatants beneath her._ At this early stage, the thought made her dizzy.

She started wishing she'd gotten a head start on Operating by means of the Sim and RTS games in her parents' library; no, it wasn't exactly the same thing, but the interfaces and tasks were in the same general family....

"By the way, those are cute Capris."

"Oh, thank you."

On her way to the vending machines for peach tea, Akira paused briefly. She hadn't thought about it, but now that it was mentioned, Akira seemed to be the only Operator wearing something other than a skirt. At least off the top of her memory; she hadn't paid that much attention, focused most of all on learning her taxing new job.

She looked down at her navy blue pants as she resumed walking. In Japan, just this little made her a tomboy, which was fine on its own; her mother also preferred pants, and if the two were similar, it was due to finding air passing high between the legs distracting and unpleasant. But that shouldn't matter so much in a Trion body. Were the Capris making her stand out? Should she swap them for skirt and leggings? What if the other Operators found out _how_ much she was different from them, somehow? Would they feel betrayed, angry? lied to?

_But I didn't choose this.... Even the Trigger knows I'm not making things up._

"-onae!"

"Uh?! I'm sorry!"

"It's fine, I could see you were thinking. But right now I'm in a hurry." The tiny Operator speaking now was Taketomi Sakurako of the B-Rank Ebina Squad: not only a frequent Rank War commentator, but the pioneer who transformed that system into its current state.

Paranoia and nervousness must wait. "Okay. How can I help you?"

"I need you to commentate the Night Division Lower-B Rank War coming up."

Akira was floored, in the hit-by-car sense. "Now?! But I don't have any experience as a squad Operator!"

"But as a central Operator, you've gotten used to what a Rank War looks like, right? I also heard you want to join a squad eventually."

"Well, yes...."

"Then you have to start somewhere. It's only just lower-B," she said with some irony, considering Ebina Squad had spent much time there. "Most Squads' strategies aren't that refined in that bracket. You'll probably be fine!"

"Right...!" Surely there were others more experienced Taketomi could have picked; she was graciously giving Akira a chance to get experience. Or there really weren't any other options, and letting down her senior wasn't a choice.

Taketomi pressed a list of available agents into Akira's hand and sent her to gather her color commentators with some basic directions. Just remain calm; summarize combatant movements and what strategies the fighters and squads appear to be using. Try to make it interesting. Try to choose agents who'll be able to back you up with useful insights on all these things, and ask them their thoughts on surprising developments.

_Ninomiya... Nope! Maybe I should pick someone who was there for the last Large-Scale Invasion. Tsutsumi is a maybe, probably...._

As Akira herself noticed, she made her choices fretfully, recruited them fretfully, and finally, when the time came, fretted her way to the commentators' station. It was getting on her own nerves how insecure she'd so suddenly become.

 _I'm not usually anxious._ It started not even after either of the Large-Scale Invasions, but during her time as a would-be combatant. Something inside her seemed punctured by that, which was ridiculous; it's not like they were real bodies she tore apart....

Yes, that was the thing. There's no reason for her to take it like murder, and because of that, it shook her confidence in her ability to step up and do what needs doing.

_It's just a Rank War. Lower B, not even the big leagues. Nobody really cares about it, not with Tamakoma-2 running around. Except the friends of the lower B squad members, oh my._

"Hey. Rookie Operator."

That was Jin's voice that made her stop and look up from the floor. He was wandering by on obvious business and didn't slow down.

"Relax. You'll do just fine." With a vote of confidence _that_ vetted, all her worries of the moment washed away in a second.

"Thank you!" she called after his back and waving hand, before marching on to her temporary station with a much faster, much lighter step.

_I know he just felt sorry for me, but the fact he felt sorry enough to say something is huge._

Akira arrived to a relatively sparse crowd that didn't grow very much larger, and with plenty of time to settle herself and take a few steadying breaths. 

"Welcome to the Lower-B Night Division! I'm trainee Central Operator Sonae Akira! This is my first time commentating a Rank War, so please be patient with me!"

 _Should I not have asked that? That sounds like I'm asking for good-will handouts._ She was trying to warn them not to expect much.

"With me are two members of Kuruma Squad!"

One leaned over to whisper, " _Suzunari-1._ "

"Suzunari-1, sorry! They are the squad's Captain Kuruma, and Sniper Betsuyaku!"

She carefully didn't allow sudden giggles from the crowd to get to her, though it was a mystery what she'd said that was so funny. Jin said everything would be fine, and he knows the future.

As the match went on, she quickly learned why the crowd seemed amused. It seemed to come from her choice of Suzunari's Sniper. If he had "useful insights", it was only half the time and seemed accidental. His thoughts on the progress of the battle largely took the form of "Man, they suck! They should have done...".

She _should_ have asked Suzunari's Attacker, Murakami, to be the other commentator; it's just that... when she'd tried, her voice dried up until she moved on to Betsuyaku.

But soon enough it was over, with no Survival Bonus granted, and the winning squad inching up in the rankings. She concluded the match review with a lot more confidence, and some in the audience gave her polite claps when it came time to disband.

When she stood and turned to leave, one of them waved at her: the Kogetsu boy with the queue, wearing a far different uniform from the C-rank she recalled. He came down and walked towards her as she approached the stairs.

Seems she's made a friend. "Kakure Hikaru, is it?"

"That's right."

"You switched to Engineer?"

"Nope. I just think that type of uniform suits me better than all these jerseys. How about you? Feel the same way about Operators?" He winked, probably to show he was joking.

"Well, no.... It turned out I couldn't handle slicing people up. Or shooting them."

"You could have become a Trapper or a Spotter, though."

"Right...." That had also come up as an option, but the thought of being physically in the war zone had dug up her dream and its accompanying nausea.

"Eh, it's still non-combatants. But this works out. D'you already have a squad in mind?"

"No."

"Great! Now that I'm B-Rank, I want to make one. What do you think?"

"About joining you?"

"Yeah."

She couldn't think of a single reason why not.

"Sure! I'll hand in my notice tomorrow; right now it's pretty late. I have to get to bed."

"Really? It's super early for that."

"Not for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Central Operators" "process work for the base as a whole", according to the BBF (thanks Chippenobokura/Sylindara). This is where they learn the equipment and probably gain points as C-Ranks. I'm still not quite clear on what work central Operators do -- is it support for Sawamura? clerical work arranging Rank War records? Monitoring HQ's structures for damage or irregularities seems likely. I assume just as commentating is training for a squad Operator, displaying the battlefield at usable angles in a Rank War is training for a central Operator. Maybe at the least they help the commentator with that.
> 
> I apologize for being completely vague about the round Akira hosted, but without any solid information on how the lower B rankings went, and only so much on those squads, I'm reluctant to just make things up. I only know it can't be Round 5.


	3. Hikaru Kakure

Operating for a squad is quite a different thing from Operating for HQ as a whole, every bit as expected. For starters, while you learn your job there aren't other, more experienced Operators nearby to pick up the slack for your sorry mistakes.

Whether Akira had become accustomed to her tools wasn't relevant, in the same way theory isn't practice in practice. Defense Duty with Kakure went fine until a Marmod came slamming through a busted house, leaving him no time to respond to either of the combat-oriented Neighbors pincering him, with self-evident results.

Akira slumped onto her keyboard in disgust until she heard Kakure flomp onto the Bail-Out mat. Since she didn't have actual field experience and had been so focused on coordinating with the other squad's movements, she forgot the things could just go right through walls if they wanted to.

With no combatants left to manage, she swiftly stood and approached the subroom housing the mats. "Kakure, I'm sor--"

"Uh, wait!"

She stopped in mid-stride, though she wasn't sure what the trouble could be.

"....Uhhh... I have a cold! Don't come near me, koff koff."

The whole thing was incredibly fake and they both knew it. But Kakure's voice did sound huskier all of a sudden.

Akira thought about these strange clues and had an inkling of a hunch. There weren't many causes she could think of for this sort of hesitation. It may not even be for the same reasons as Akira -- but why fib so transparently, in a way that risked causing a teammate to brush it off, unless _not being seen was of the essence?_

"Kakure.... Don't take this wrong. But, is the problem that you don't look the way you do in your Trion body?"

Even in hers, she could almost feel the air pressure suck towards the Bail-Out room, cold with terror.

"It's okay. I'm the same way - in a different way, but I get it."

There was still silence. Maybe she'd made the wrong choice, putting her finger on the nose of things like that. But Kakure had nothing to fear from Akira; there must be a way to prove it. 

"I'll take my Trigger off too so it's not awkward. Okay?"

Still silence. She would have offered to leave at last if his voice hadn't returned.

"Okay. Just don't stare at my chest."

Even if Akira had wanted to (she didn't), Kakure had well-covered himself with his T-shirted arms, supplementing them with a defensive slouch. They were toned, stronger-looking than Akira's, yet more slender.

"Sorry. I panicked. This is way different from the C-Rank Wars."

"It's all right."

Silence took over, heavy and awkward, as Akira stood there and Kakure didn't move, nor tell her to leave.

"Uh...." Maybe complimenting him might break the ice. "You have nice arms?"

"Thanks. It comes from a lot of working out." He held them out to look at them himself, keeping his elbows in front. "To be honest, I'm not really a sports kind of guy, save for kendo. But it's the only way I can get away with body training."

"Your parents won't let you?"

"Not without forcing me to do something they picked for me." His voice quickly changed from sheepish to slightly forceful with indignation. "It's like they can tell I'm not really their daughter; they _hate it_ when I do 'unfeminine' things." His hand attacked his unbraided, shoulder-coating, crow-like hair. "Once I cut this, and they threw a fit. I remember my dad said, 'Don't you realize that makes you look like a boy?' Um, yeah?"

"'Look like a boy'??"

"Exactly, right? Like this? Fat chance. I can't even bind right now."

"Since they'll notice and complain?"

"That, and I read you can really jack up your ribs if you do it wrong. I want that even less than I want these."

He seemed to have relaxed already; probably, seeing the degree to which Akira was in the same bucket helped. Here they were, on different sides of the looking glass, through no fault or choice of their own.

Akira could feel the unfairness of it. "Why couldn't we just trade bodies."

"Right??"

After letting Akira sit on the mat across to reduce the awkwardness, Kakure continued to talk. He volunteered a lot of things, more than Akira would have expected to hear in these circumstances; they still barely knew each other. But soon she realized it seemed he was unburdening himself of all of them. Sloughing away the weights on his mind, to split them with another shoulder.

For instance, he'd had no one to tell -- no one who would have understood the problem's true nuances -- about the middle school in Mikado his parents had almost sent him to. It wasn't unusual by any means for parents to choose their child's school, but the thing was his tried to make him attend _Seirin Girls' Academy._ So he'd gone to the next highest authority, armed with numbers he had crunched all night long, and argued it down to Rokueikan. Seirin was too far away, and more expensive than even the prep school, especially with the latter's Border discount; down to the single yen he told his grandfather how much it would put the Kakures in the pit.

It nearly sounded like everything he did was an adaptation to get around or live within his parents' dictations. Even the baggy jumpsuit was a shield before it was simply Kakure's style; it also hid from his parents that his Trion body in fact had a binder reducing his burden, if they so happened to check the PR homepage.

It was a cage Akira had once expected to confront herself, but the thickness of the bars now left her speechless. Kakure seemed to misunderstand her loose expression.

"What? Go ahead and ask me anything you want."

"Well, if they object so much, I'm not sure why they would let you do anything 'unfeminine' at all." 

"It's not obvious? They're just hoping it's a phase and I'll 'get sick' of it. Tell you how I know. After the whole Rokureikan fiasco, my parents told me that if I was going to insist on doing 'men's things', then I'd better get myself ready to work a 'man's job'."

"But that's good, right?"

"I thought so. But my dad said that this way I'd learn 'a woman can't do men's work'."

Now Akira was starting to get a headache. Putting aside for the moment whom Kakure really was, even in Japan there were plenty of women who wanted to enter fields considered male -- and did. There were some in high levels of government. What is this "can't do men's work"? Mikado never came off as a place overflowing with super-rigid people, but maybe she just hadn't noticed before.

"How traditional are they?"

"Very. Of course, we moved here from somewhere else before I was born. I don't even remember what they said the place was, but the air is better here, or something.

"Anyway, you can probably guess, and I know you didn't ask, but Border is my best lifeline right now. There's the housing for agents, plus I'm saving my money to become independent, quick as I can." Kakure looked seriously relieved. "I've never told anyone my plans before. Since you know everything else--"

"Say, I can give you the money _I've_ been earning from Defense Duty! To help." _It mostly just goes to buying dinners and video games as it is._

"Wh-what? No."

"Really, I'm not even using it."

"Really, I appreciate it. But I don't want to take anyone's money. Except people I work for, of course. It's an honor thing. I have to do it myself or not at all."

"Okay, I understand."

Of course now she couldn't help but think of her own parents, and feel selfish and naive for having the audacity to get angry at _their_ response to her. They weren't affectionate parents, but they made sure she was fed and had healthy teenage freedom. They didn't hate her, they never beat her. It could have been much worse. Kakure, across from her, would probably have killed for parents who merely didn't give an imperial shit what he did.

"Look, don't be upset on my account. At the end of the day, nothing's changed. We're still a squad, right?"

"Of course!"

"Now, uh, if I could borrow that coat...."

* * *

On her return, Akira and her folks exchanged the usual politenesses.

"How's the Border thing going?"

"Okay, I think. I just got to know my captain better."

"You gonna start dating him?"

"Mom, no."

"Just kidding."

Akira watched the two draped over the couch, their thumbs attacking buttons. Even if they were like lazy, feckless Americans, it no longer seemed like such a bad thing.

"Uh... can I join you?"

For a minute they looked absolutely shocked. They'd met in an arcade as teenagers, and Mom kicked Dad's butt. That was the story. Maybe they had just wanted to be the kind of parents their kid could play games and relax with.

"Sure!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It looks otherwise, but Akira's parents _do_ work. I think they might be employed as video game testers.


	4. Kakure Squad

After months of practice in both Defense Duty and increasingly-complex Strategy games, Akira believed she was getting proficient at entering what she called The Zone. It was probably the same Zone for any Operator worth her salt. As you get used to the tools and the chaos of the battlefield, information begins to assimilate by osmosis and it all heads toward second nature. The world narrows to the Operator station, the screens and the input from squad members and the battlefield at hand.

Akira considered having a little direct combat experience a slight advantage. Not many Operators shared this, since lots of them came to this job thanks to a lack of Trion for combat. With less than three days spent as an aspiring combatant, she didn't know how much of a difference it made -- but with a taste of the worldview of Gunners and Attackers, she thought it did become easier to intuit what they might need than if she'd never set foot on the battlefield.

Akira and Hikaru had since been joined by a diligent Sniper and a Gunner with some potential. Unfortunately, for Kakure Squad's decent individual talents, they still occupied the lowest rungs in the Rank Wars -- even these informal, unhosted ones that not all the remaining B-Rank squads participated in, cobbled together while the Away mission had redirected most of Border's forces.

The reason for their poor standing? Other agents managed to find mentors or rivals to help them take their skills to the next level. This sometimes entailed relationships that went outside of Border; people were always inviting each other to lunch or to their houses. And the members of Kakure Squad all lived under an awareness they couldn't be so lucky as to stay in their Trion bodies at all such times. Uncomfortable realities would eventually emerge. That ability to improve their faces, that seemed like such a boon, now made that particular problem even stickier.

And so, Kakure Squad had gained the nickname of "the Secretive Squad", since they always deflected social activity outside Border with claims of undefined prior business. It pained Hikaru to turn down Attackers who were intrigued by his unusual swordplay and invited him to hang out, but thoughts of the future forced his hand.

He said now, though, "Maybe it won't be so bad if people find out! We have a prior in Chano Squad. Maybe."

"Well, we can't tell by looking."

"Right. But I'm just saying that whatever the case, they're an interesting choice for a second PR Squad."

Sakuyama, their Gunner, looked up from a box of pocky sticks.

"Wait a minute! Chano _isn't_ a guy??"

Their sniper, Suzume, answered: "That's the thing, we don't know. I don't think it's right to speculate about a stranger just because of looks."

"Then let's focus on what we know for sure." Hikaru slid from friend to captain quite easily. "Which is, after every round we're always behind Chano Squad, even though they have only two combatants and no Sniper."

"And they really, _really_ suck."

"Even so, it's easier to coordinate with fewer members. Not that I'm complaining. Plus their Operator's obviously more experienced than me."

"And there's the luck thing."

"At the end of the day, they have a less-risky, more-solid basic strategy than we do."

"And all that could be what's going on. But I think the main problem is we're doing nothing but following blazed trails. Every time we think we've got something new, and we're up against a Squad that sat in middle B, it's like they've _seen_ it before. No doubt because we're mixing and matching what we've seen in the logs."

The facts dangled over their heads. Advancement wasn't just about pride or glory. If they stayed crummy lower-B Ranks forever, then how could they make a difference when it really mattered -- such as if _another_ Large-Scale Invasion occurred?

And under these conditions, improvement left them with little option.

"There's nothing else to do. At least one of us has to start putting our neck out and talking to other agents. Sakuyama, I'd ask you to do it, but you are just too fucking bad with people."

"Yep...."

"I'll risk it first, then." Suzume spoke with a solid voice belying his shortness. "The Sniper community is both tight and loose-lipped; gossip spreads like fire, and out blows the smoke. If the worst should come, if it's going to be a big deal and from whom, we'll find out pretty quick."

"You're brave, man."

"I'm not really that worried. A lot of Border's most talented people seem to be, to put it diplomatically, pretty strange. I don't think most of them care too much about the particulars of whom they're working with as long as we're all trying our best to defend Mikado. And not doing anything illegal."

"I sure hope so...."

"Well, it's time for Sniper practice. Soon enough, we'll probably find out."

* * *

The three remaining entered the hall shortly after Suzume departed.

"Nothing left to do for today. See you guys tomor-"

"Uh, hello."

The voice came down the empty hall, from someone who'd just recently turned B-rank and joined the roster of their competition. He seemed like, until mere seconds ago, he'd only just been passing by.

"Are you Kakure Hikaru from Rokueikan?"

Hikaru, far from his usual collected face, resembled a cornered animal. This change silenced his squadmates, and yet, the questioner seemed to find the reaction strange.

"Hh- who's asking?"

"I wasn't sure... is there any particular reason you're pretending to be a boy?"

If the question had been made of bullets Hikaru probably would have Bailed Out, then and there, by severe Trion loss. He nevertheless did, by backing into the strategy room and shutting the door. Akira and Sakuyama could only just stand there, along with the nonplussed B-Rank. Soon she heard Sakuyama over comm.

_< Akira, what should we do?>_

_< Obviously we need to do damage control. Me. I'll do it.>_ She breathed in, although she had no real idea what needed to come out of her mouth.

The strategy room door _*shff*_ ed back open.

"The Kakure you're thinking of is my twin sister!"

"Oh.... Okay."

"We go to different schools! But we both get this kind of thing a lot. She's had people who know me come up and ask her why she's crossdressing."

"All right."

"If you could kindly not bring this up to her... she's really getting tired of it."

"Okay. Sorry."

Thus rebuffed, the interloper continued on his way. It seemed like a pretty successful feint. Up until Hikaru slid down against the Strat Room door, face in his hands.

"Damnit! I hate telling lies!"

"You don't really have a twin sister?"

Akira put a harsh hand on the Gunner. "Sakuyama, please...."

In short order all were gathered in the Strategy Room again, sitting in their respective seats: swivel chair brought from the Operator's station, house chair holding Hikaru, beanbag couching Sakuyama, high stool empty of its Sniper.

Hikaru's heel bounced against the floor as he stared into the table as though demanding it answer. "The hell does he want?"

"I don't know, maybe he-"

"I know exactly what he fucking wants!" His hands left his chin and he flattened, pounding his fist as punctuation. "Why, why, why?! Why does everything happen to _me_?!"

"Maybe it's not all that bad," Akira offered.

Sakuyama picked up this thread. "Yeah, are you sure he wants that?"

"I can guess just fine! Look, neither of you two even know what it's like-- He's a man -- but I....." His chair _*hooof*_ ed and he started to pace the length of the subroom.

_< Akira?>_

_< I don't know....>_

Suddenly he flattened his palms on the table, wearing a wild look.

"I've got it! We can get strategy out of this! I just have to go up to him as 'my twin sister' and say I really admire Border agents and want to know more about how they practice to fight Neighbors!"

"But isn't that guy a Shooter who doesn't use any Attacker Triggers?"

"And nobody's really supposed to discuss how Triggers work with civilians."

The air around him plummeted. "That's true."

Hikaru stood and turned, as if to resume his pacing; he ended up holding onto himself with both arms, palm once again hiding his face.

"Then there's no other option. I'm gonna have to tell him."

"Tell him what?"

"That I lied."

"What?! I thought we were trying to avoid being outed as long as we could."

"Yes, but we were starting to resign ourselves to it maybe being inevitable? And what if he figures out that there's no twin sister?"

"It's really unlikely if you're careful."

"But it only takes one slip. Then we're not just the secretive squad, we're the lying squad. And what about the people who could maybe get their heads around our predicaments, but not if we could be lying about those too?"

 _You're overthinking it._ Is what she wanted to say, but was Hikaru really wrong?

"I think you're kinda making doomsday out of it," Sakuyama said as a first contribution. "Lots of people fib when they're trying to get out of dates. You could just say that was why? If it comes up."

"If it comes up, then that's going to be too late. I should nip it in the bud now."

* * *

This time, instead of disappearing when the day's joint practice was finished, Suzume lingered to remark on scores. As a group, the other Snipers, whom of course had grown accustomed to his terseness, almost exploded with surprise.

"Well, look at that! The tortoise Sniper is coming out of his shell! What changed?"

"I know I can't improve further if I only keep to myself."

"You _could._ It just takes unnatural talent."

Nearly as if Suzume had never been cold-shouldered, the other Snipers welcomed his conversation. It really was like a big family, here in Border -- but those in Suzume's position know very well that being a family may mean nothing the second you turn out not to be what that family expects.

He was luckier than most: His grandfather had decided he'd rather have an unusual grandson than a dead granddaughter, and kept quiet as long as Suzume promised to tell him if something was burdening him. The rest of life felt fragile, and Suzume kept it at arm's length in every way possible.

He wondered if he'd ever not see the cheerful and serene faces gabbing around him as belonging to possible enemy combatants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That escalated quickly.


	5. Hikaru Kakure: Part 2

For many minutes, Hikaru had rehearsed his explanation-apology to the tall form of Sakuyama.

"Listen... please hear out everything I have to say before you answer. All right?"

"Yup."

His tone had slipped into a calm formality almost opposite from his usual confidence; easily switched to and used, yet alien on him. Akira, for some reason, wondered if this was how Hikaru talked to his parents. "I have to admit that what I told you before was a lie. I _am_ the Kakure you're thinking of. I lied before because I panicked, but doing that didn't sit right with me. That's why I'm telling you the truth now. The truth is also I'm not 'pretending'."

Suddenly he looked to the side, rubbing his arms as if to get heat and blood back into them in the midst a blizzard, all of which looked unplanned. Then he straightened with a fragile boldness.

"I don't know how you feel about this and I won't tell you what to think, but what's really important is we're both here to protect our home city. At Border I want to keep things professional. Can we go about our lives like nothing's different?"

"Sure. I'm in the same boat."

Hikaru curled in on himself, and Akira had to speak. "Sakuyama, that's _not_ how he's going to answer."

"What if it is?"

"It won't be!" This wasn't the time for Sakuyama to be Sakuyama. But then she saw that Hikaru was bent over in silent laughter, not despair.

Nevertheless, the next day she woke up even earlier than usual in fear for him. Made coffee early, ate breakfast early, all to kill time until she could reasonably call him before he left for Rokureikan. If things go badly, is he going to be okay? You didn't really hear of crimes or motivated attacks being committed in Mikado but it may just be because of the lack of obviously _unusual_ people.

"Hikaru, I just want to make sure: If the worst happens and you have to leave Border, what is your lifeline going to be?"

He didn't answer at first, as if the question had to undertake a journey to reach his consciousness. Then, although his rough voice was clear as ever, it sounded far away.

"Something else."

In that moment she wanted to offer to take him in, give him somewhere to stay other than HQ, but she'd have to ask her parents first and didn't know if they'd agree....

"Anyway, I've made up my mind, Akira."

"I wasn't trying to talk you out o-"

"You're a good friend. Wish me luck."

The line beeped dead.

"...It sounds like you're going into armed combat."

* * *

"Akira. News? Any news?" It appeared the gravity of the situation had begun to press on Sakuyama as well.

"Not yet."

"I don't know if that's good or bad."

Sakuyama could have gone to the solo Rank Wars to wait, but both of them had been infected by Hikaru's stress. They started to look for him in the most sense-making places of HQ, to no avail. Beyond that they had no clue.

 _His Trigger. In Border, Triggers are like GPS. I can find him._ But the thought slid away as quickly as it came. Without Hikaru's advance knowledge or permission, nor any concrete reason yet to think she may _need_ to track him down, it was too close to an invasion of his privacy. He could easily just be off on his own to process and recover from a talk that didn't go so well.

At a minimum, they could expect that their captain would regroup in either the Strategy Room or the Lounge. Sakuyama of course wanted food, as if at constant war with a warp-speed metabolism, so that meant the Lounge. While they waited alert for a glimpse of Hikaru's queue, Suzume appeared first.

"Did someone die?" he asked, taking a seat.

"What makes you say that?"

"Your expressions...." A sight he saw not far away changed his slightly, which was itself spookily unusual. "Speaking of:"

Hikaru had finally arrived: dragging himself like a death-row prisoner, staring into the ground.

"Uh oh." Crumbs erupted from Sakuyama's face.

He plodded to the lunch table and slid, liquid, into the vacant seat. Akira, of course, had never seen him look so empty and devastated even after the question that started this whole mess. _But it can't have been a nuclear disaster, or he probably wouldn't have come today...._

"Did it go badly?"

"He wasn't at school today. At least, I didn't happen to see him."

"Oh."

"What's going on?" Suzume asked, the only one out of the loop.

Hikaru started to answer -- then he dug out his phone and started to type everything out in a quieter note. He shaded his answer with a hand while offering it to Suzume.

"I see. Captain, are you sure you want to confess to that?"

"Hell no I don't. But I have to think of you guys too, you know? And I don't want to fuck things up for the squad by making us look like shifty liars."

"But it was an understandable reflex considering your position."

"That's what I said!" Sakuyama pointed out.

"Yeah, but that's banking on people seeing it that way.

"Look, maybe I'm being paranoid. But if this does come back to haunt, it's not just _my_ ass that'll get bit. I don't want to risk the damage to all our integrity more than I'm afraid of how he'll react now."

If this continued, all it was going to be was a repeat of yesterday. Hikaru wouldn't be talked down -- and Akira thought she might know why. He was genuinely tired of having to lie endlessly just to protect himself from an unknown amount of threat. And inflexible parents were one thing. It seemed the outright, undeniable falsehood to a complete stranger was a straw that broke him.

Suzume closed his eyes.

"Well. I guess we were preparing for the eventuality anyway."

"Hey, there's that guy."

Three sets of eyes followed Sakuyama's finger to the boy from yesterday, in a small crowd of other B-Ranks.

"All right then. Here we are." Spoken as if Hikaru were trying to convince himself. He stood slowly, holding the table like a rail. "Maybe the worst that'll happen is everybody thinks I'm a crossdresser and then never really brings it up. Not totally smooth, but better than having to leave."

"You'll probably be fine, Captain. It's not like you're a Neighbor."

"Right. That's right."

Thanks to Suzume's observation, Hikaru really did seem more confident as he walked away. That much was true: Here in Mikado City -- at least in Border -- as long as you were short of a criminal, a Neighbor was worse than anything you could possibly be.


	6. Extra: Kakure Squad

The squad of shooting stars that burn up on entry!

This squad seems to prefer hedging bets, with members packing sub Triggers for use in quick escapes from jams.

The main strategy appears to be herding individual opponents into close face-offs with their Ace (the Attacker), although all members attempt to win points as opportunities present. Once a single target is chosen they avoid abandoning it. Both the Gunner and the Sniper (often with Lightning) use Starmaker to prevent the quarry's concealment. The strategy might be overspecialized for their strata of opponent, which tends not to involve stealth strategies, and is overkill for most enemy Snipers.

The Gunner likes to use Grasshopper to fire from above, but thereby risks snipings or mid-range fire. The Sniper has attempted luring in Attackers after a shot only to blow them up with Meteor landmines; this strategy has prompted lower-B Attackers to experiment with Shooter or Gunner Triggers when Kakure Squad is their opponent. Spawn position depending, the Gunner will fire off rockets to purposefully attract attention and lure foes. Matching the personality of the Captain, the squad currently tends toward high-risk, high-return strategies that often result in even exchanges.

With a brutal, pioneering rocket launcher in their toolkit (imported with their Gunner), the squad seems to draw inspiration from Tamakoma-2's terrain-changing Cannon. But use of this strategy has already backfired on them, attracting Sniper attention and equally-brutal counterattacks; the fearsome reputation of Tamakoma-2 seems to have caused lower-ranking squads to be paranoid at the sight of similar tactics and adapt rapidly.

Dummy Beacons might be a good addition to the squad's toolkit, but the Sniper doesn't have much Trion room to add them to his loadout.

Uniform: Unusually, this squad wears somewhat-baggy jumpsuits similar to a union of Engineer and C-Rank uniforms. A mechanical-grey with short sleeves in summer and bulky worker's gloves.

Strategy Room: Aside from community snacks brought in by Sakuyama and four personal seats, the Squad's room is fairly barren and has no changes from the base design. The members may not have worked out their decor yet, or a psychological barrier might currently be preventing them from committing to the room as their own.

* * *

(Ages and Trigger compositions as of in-canon July 2014.)

#### 祖納 (そなえ) ~~嘩~~ 旭 (あきら)

  * Akira Sonae
  * Operator
  * 16 years old
  * Born June 6
  * Lepus, Blood type A
  * Height: 5'6"
  * Only child



Likes
    Early mornings and sunrises, cold cereal that stays good soggy, being valued and of value

#### 隠 (かくれ) ~~旺~~ 輝(ひかる)

  * Hikaru Kakure
  * Captain, Attacker
  * 16 years old
  * Born December 28
  * Clavis, Blood type A
  * Height: 5'5" ("A _tall_ 5'5"!!!")
  * Only child; Lives with mother, father, maternal grandfather



Likes
    Nighttime, oranges, neck-and-neck matches, musical theater
Main
    Kogetsu, Whirlwind, Shield, Free space
Sub
    Scorpion, Hound, Shield, Bagworm

Rather than being a deliberate copy of Oji Squad's captain, this Trigger set reflects suggestions from Operator Sonae to cover Kakure's vulnerabilities when the Squad had only two members.

Hound is thus far only used for quick defenses, if enemies outnumber him or appear unexpectedly. Despite Kogetsu talent (5500~6200 points at the moment), burgeoning dual-wielding skills that use Scorpion as a wakizashi, and the seeming basicness of Hound, he seems unable to get comfortable with the Shooter Trigger and his performance suffers when he tries to shoot while using Kogetsu. Is considering use of Chameleon instead.

As his parents forced him to learn traditional dances, his combat style has a slippery, acrobatic flow that itself resembles a dance.

#### 柵山 (さくやま) 空良 (そら)

  * Sora Sakuyama
  * Gunner
  * 17 years old
  * Born November 23
  * Cetacea, Blood type B
  * Height: 5'8"
  * Lives with mother, older brother, younger sister, maternal grandparents, parakeet



Likes
    Warm weather, fast cars, animals, meat, guns
Main
    Meteor (Rocket Launcher*), Viper (Assault Rifle), Shield, Meteor (Shotgun)
Sub
    Grasshopper, Starmaker, Shield, Bagworm

(*High Power, good Speed, low Range partly compensated for by the Gunner Trigger. Reload time is poor; unlike the Grenade Launcher, only one rocket can be fired every five seconds. If the Rocket Launcher did not already exist, Sakuyama proposed it simply by asking "Why isn't there a Rocket Launcher?" and happening to spark an Engineer's imagination.)

Despite a cramped loadout, Sakuyama refuses to leave off even one of the three guns, switching only bullet types as needed. May benefit from replacing Grasshopper with Teleporter, and leaving Starmaker to the Sniper.

#### 雀 (すずめ) 忍( にん)

  * Nin Suzume
  * Glasses Sniper
  * 16 years old
  * Born March 24
  * Falco, Blood type AB
  * Height: 5'4"
  * Lives with mother, father, younger brother, paternal grandparents, maternal grandfather, dog



Likes
    Talented underdogs, anthropology, occasional raids on parents' sake
Main
    Egret, Lightning, Shield, Free space
Sub
    Bagworm, Starmaker, Shield, Meteor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A brutal, pioneering rocket launcher" is kind of over the top, but it makes me laugh so I left it in.


End file.
